Vision+Voice

I am stuck at home for Christmas
got nowhere to go but home
lets grab some eggnog and sit by the tree
until this pandemic folds

I am stars
An equal member of the universe
Among the vastness, I am living
I am moving, I am thinking
Stars are larger than me.
Is the same true of their dreams?
Do stars feel dwarfed by galaxies
As I do by the stars?
Do stars look at the universe
By their own light
And marvel at its beauty?
Do stars look through their stellar microscopes
At humans?
Are they wondering all this
Of me?

Time is endless
Roaring yet silent
As the stillest ocean
Under endless grey skies
Steadier than your own heartbeat
Still as rock
Forever churning, Time speaks.

Sometimes also
There’s sunrise
Not just
Cool shade
Sunrise
Dappled through the trees
As thickly as the morning dew
Who so willingly shares
Its slippery leaves

A crying bird in a giant ocean
A hopeless cause in a million more
A mother cat with a struck-down kit
These and a thousand others
Are the reasons I am sad
A love that lasts longer than a grudge
Justice at last claiming a kill
A long-wanted end to an evil cause
These and a thousand others
Are the reasons I am happy

This, her cave, the cave of secrets,
Still, like a giant shouting,
Her voice echoing,
Still, she is nothing
To the drops
drip
drip
dripping away forever.
Her cave looks empty, yet it’s full of life
Her cave looks dark, yet it’s full of life
And the shadows
Closing in
Are going
With the drops
drip
drip
dripping away forever.

I prefer movies
I prefer yellow
I prefer light eyes to dark
I prefer spicy to sweet
I prefer water
I prefer target
I prefer showers to baths
I prefer both cats and dogs
I prefer writing
I prefer pasta to pizza

Everything in this moment feels WHITE:
My name when you call it,
The comfort you exude
Gentle light let in by open windows
The soft petals of daisies fallen

WHITE is Chopin on the stereo
WHITE is a ceramic bowl you take care not to break
WHITE sheets of paper budding with possibility
Sun bleached seashells along the shore
WHITE thread to bend a torn button
Handwritten heartfelts on WHITE stationary, exchanged with hardly a word
What is left to say?

Walking under moonlight,
Whistling a low, sweet tune
WHITE pillowcases to finally rest our heads;
Send ourselves to dreams on

And you
You are everything I’ve described:
care , solace , relief
And when I forget what comfort is-
I remember who you are

How could I have known?
With the ocean spilling in
There was no shoreline

“Beauty is skin deep”
is what we’ve been told;
and it will be said to our children once we grow old.
But as humans we crave the acceptance from others,
regardless of what we’ve been told by our mothers.
It doesn’t matter if loved ones say our faces look better bare
because we only feel good if strangers stop and stare.